Burnt Canadian Scones
by death by storm
Summary: In an unfortunate turn of events, Arthur ends up cooking Matthew a birthday dinner. Happy Canada day! Canada/England.


Happy Canada Day everyone!

Enjoy this brief one shot that I have composed in honour of my nation's birthday.

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia

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><p>"I think they turned out well, this time," the Brit said proudly as he set a plate of blackened scones in front of Matthew.<p>

"Thank you," Matthew said quietly. His former mentor/father figure - Matthew firmly pushed that thought away – smiled at him. What he felt for Arthur was nothing familial.

"Well, go on. Try it." The other man's clothes were unusually formal tonight and it made Matthew feel woefully under dressed in his usual hoodie and jeans ensemble.

The apron thrown over top of Arthur's outfit made him look cute in Matthew's humble opinion. Well, cuter than normal. Arthur gave him a look so full of hope, Matthew had no other choice but to pick up the scone. Before he could stop himself, he bit into it. Something about it didn't taste quite right. Not that he had expected it to. Tears streamed from Matthew's eyes as he forced down the bite of scone. It left an acrid aftertaste of charcoal on his tongue and when it finally hit his stomach, it rolled.

Matthew began to cough violently.

"You think it tastes bad, don't you?" Arthur said.

"N-no... it tastes good," he said weakly.

"You never were a good liar, Matthew," Arthur began to cut up his cucumber with a little more force than necessary. "It's all that damn frog's fault! He made sure to ruin your tastebuds before he gave you to me."

Matthew looked away to hide his smile as Arthur began to rant. He took a sip of tea in a desperate attempt to clear the taste out of his mouth.

"You sure you don't want me to help?" Matthew said.

"Nonsense. It's your birthday and therefore I should be the one to cook you dinner." Arthur said.

_But it's my kitchen,_ Matthew wanted to say. _And I'm really attached to it._ He kept quiet though. This was the second year in a row that members of the royal family and hence Arthur himself, had visited Canada during this special day. It finally seemed like Arthur was remembering him, or at least paying more attention to him. That translated, or at least Matthew hoped it translated into him having a shot at having the other man notice him. In a, you know, not so father son matter.

"Bollocks!" He heard the knife clatter onto the counter.

Matthew looked up to see the former British Empire clutching his hand. He set down his tea and stepped over to where Arthur was standing.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

"Never you mind, Matthew. I'm fine," Arthur said. "I just nicked myself with the bloody knife. I'll have it patched up in no time."

"Let me see."

Matthew gently pulled Arthur's hands towards him. He coaxed the other nation to let go of his injured finger. Blood was streaming steadily from the wound and down Arthur's hand. Matthew guided the other to the sink and turned on the tap. He ignored the British nation's half hearted protests as he stuck the injury under the water.

"I-It's not that deep. I don't think that you'll need stitches," Matthew glanced up and saw Arthur watching him with a flushed look on his face and felt his own cheeks heat up in response. "What is it?"

Arthur shook his head. "It's nothing lad."

Matthew went upstairs and grabbed his first aid kit out of the washroom. He went back into the kitchen and dropped it on the counter in front of Arthur. He popped the lid and began to rummage around eventually producing a bandage.

"Could I please have your finger?" Matthew said quietly.

Arthur spluttered. "Matthew, you don't really need to-"

"Arthur give me your finger. Please?"

England's face flushed again as Canada grabbed his fingers. Matthew held back a smile. Well that was interesting. He'd have to experiment. Maybe he wasn't the only one with hidden feelings? Deftly he wrapped the bandage around the injured digit. Looking straight into Arthur's eyes with an added sexy look for measure, he leaned forward and gently kissed the bandaged finger.

Arthur swore and pulled away sharply. Matthew forced his lips into a painful smile. Well that hadn't worked out like he'd planned. "You used to kiss my injuries better all the time when I was a child."

_Wow, way to make it a whole lot more awkward Matthew_, he thought.

"Yes, well, you're no longer a child," came the stiff answer.

"Are you alright?" Matthew asked.

"I'm fine. I just need to finish cooking dinner before it- "

A shrill beeping filled the air as the fire detector went off. Smoke began to billow from the stove accompanied with a hissing sound. Arthur cursed and knocked Matthew to the ground. There was a moment's pause where Matthew under Arthur wondering what just hit him before the hissing followed by a loud bang. The smoke alarm died with an unhappy screech.

"The roast is ruined," Arthur said quietly, dejectedly from his prone position on the floor.

"Tabernak! Arthur are you alright?" Matthew said.

"And so is your kitchen," He continued as if he hadn't heard Matthew. "I'm so sorry Matthew. I'll pay for the damage."

England picked himself up off the floor and helped Matthew up as well. "I'm fine. For once, I just wanted to cook you a meal you'd actually enjoy."

"Arthur," Matthew said . "I-I may not always have the proper sense of taste to fully appreciate your meals, but I always enjoy your company. Let's go out tonight. My treat?"

"That wouldn't really be fair, lad. After all, it's your birthday. And I did just destroy your kitchen," Arthur said wryly.

And Matthew couldn't quell the sudden swell of happiness in his chest despite his destroyed kitchen. Not that he would want to. "I guess it wouldn't."

Matthew began to head down the hall, only to be stopped by an insistent British hand on his wrist.

"I have something to tell you," Arthur said. "There was a reason why I wanted to cook you dinner tonight even if it didn't go as planned."

Matthew's heart began to flutter in his chest, like a bird trying to escape its cage. "What did you want to tell me?"

"I wanted to tell you... ," Arthur took a deep breath. "I wanted to ask – Happy Birthday, Canada."

Matthew's spirits fell faster than he could say maple. Well, that really wasn't what he'd expected to hear.

"No, that's not what I wanted to say... I know I haven't been the best to you over the years. I've ignored you in favour of your brother, I've ignored you period. I've mistaken you for your brother. When you were a colony, I forbade you to see that bloody frog. I know that I don't deserve what I'm going to ask you for, but I really," Arthur's voice died again.

"Will you go out with me?" Matthew blurted. He saw Arthur's eyes widen in shock and proceeded to kick himself mentally. Repeatedly. _Why_ had he done that? He didn't even know if Arthur was interested!

He turned away to again be stopped by a hand on his arm. Arthur was angled away from him but Matthew could still see the deep red blush on his face.

"Arthur, I'm-"

"Don't!" Matthew cut off. "Don't apologize."

Arthur looked up at him and lay a hand on his cheek. Matthew couldn't resist the impulse to lean into it. He didn't know who he was kidding. Why would someone like Arthur like someone like him. Arthur was, well, amazing and he was just Matthew- His negative thoughts were cut off with a pair of warm lips covering his own. Before he had a chance to truly enjoy it, they were gone.

"Was that the answer you were looking for?" Matthew opened his eyes. Huh. He couldn't remember closing them.

"I-I wouldn't mind hearing it again," Matthew said.

And to Matthew's delight, Arthur was more than happy to oblige.

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><p>... I'm going to bed now. Curse early morning work shifts!<p> 


End file.
